


One Slytherin, One Hufflepuff

by Fire_Fox_0111



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Background Hogwarts, F/F, Fluff, Hufflepuff, SlythenPuff, Slytherin, Valentine’s Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:20:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22681606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Fox_0111/pseuds/Fire_Fox_0111
Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day and the fourth-years are spending an afternoon in Hogsmeade. But whilst their fellow students attempt to dodge the amorous advances of their admirers, one Slytherin and one Hufflepuff seek some peace and quiet alone.
Kudos: 10





	One Slytherin, One Hufflepuff

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Background Hogwarts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14594382) by [SupernaturalPhoenix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturalPhoenix/pseuds/SupernaturalPhoenix). 



Valentine's Day. It was that time of year when the air was filled with the hushed giggles of students, the flurrying of owls delivering little pink envelopes and love-notes, the definitively beautiful smell of Amortentia from the Potions classroom. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had experienced booming sales in love potions; every pub and café in Hogsmeade was filled with confetti-tossing Cupids and amorous couples; even the Fat Lady had received an extravagant bunch of flowers from persons unknown (although the rumour was that Sir Cadogan was the culprit). 

With all of this flirtatious frivolity going on, where in Hogsmeade could one Slytherin and one Hufflepuff get some peace and quiet?

There was a little bookshop on the edge of the village which the Hufflepuff knew well. Quiet it was indeed - the only sound was the soft whispering of the pages as they sighed under the girls' fingertips, like leaves stirred by a slight zephyr. Books of all sizes, from the tiniest matchbox-sized pocket editions with gilt page-edges, to vast tomes with intricately embroidered covers a palm's depth thick, lined the shelves.A cave of wonders, a shrine of peace. And there they read contentedly...

...for all of three-and-a-half minutes, after which a gaggle of hysterical third-years burst into the shop. "He's coming! Hide in here, quick! Ooh, he’ll _see_ us!” This was accompanied by an elaborate show of snatching up the delicate books and pretending to read, with exaggeratedly theatrical gestures, whilst peeking over the top at the boy who was even now barging in through the door.

Time to move on.

The Slytherin knew of a stationery shop, not far from Madame Puddifoot’s, which she suggested they visit. The Hufflepuff agreed. So they made their way down over the frost-silvered cobbles, past several pairs of kissing (or, by this point, bickering) students, to the shop where the little bell over the door tinkled its greeting. 

Here was almost every item of stationery one could think of. Parchment and protractors, French curves and Fibonacci gauges, staplers and quill sharpeners, inkwells and erasers... A carousel of notebooks stood in the centre, each cover gilded or ink-spattered or sequinned or marbled with gorgeous colours. And of course there were quills: the neon-bright quills of the Fwooper, the dark mossy green of the Augurey, the shimmering gold of the Thunderbird.

The Slytherin picked up a small, fluffy feather - probably from an owl - and gently tickled the Hufflepuff’s nose. “Boop!”

An Augurey feather, as dark as her scarf, met her nose in return. “Booooop.” 

After several more rounds of booping (it was irresistibly fun), they went to examine the display of inks and paints at the back of the shop. There was a Self-Cleaning Quill available for testing samples, so the Hufflepuff wrote “Hello world” in an ink that changed to a different colour of the rainbow with every letter, whilst the Slytherin wrote their names in Illuminating Ink, bright as the moon. She was just about to test out the Self-Correcting Ink when a voice behind her called her name.

It was their Gryffindor friend Georgina. “Help me,” she pleaded. “Those two outside keep trying to give me stuff.”

Sure enough, a pair of boys were hovering impatiently by the window - one laden with an enormous stack of shiny gift bags and heart-shaped boxes, the other nervously holding a long piece of parchment on which there appeared to be a hastily written poem.

”Just tell them to go away.”

”Or Stupefy them.”

Georgina flapped her hands frantically. “No, no, they’re coming in, hide me!”

There didn’t seem much point in hiding, since her two suitors had evidently already seen her through the window. Nonetheless, the three girls scrambled off to the upstairs section, where a sign was hung over the doorway: PAINT YOUR OWN FIGURINES.

The upstairs room was small, but it held quite the menagerie of creatures - both magical and non-magical - which shuffled around sleepily on their shelves, all albino-white and waiting to be painted. The Slytherin watched in fascination as a tiny Basilisk coiled itself around her fingers; the Hufflepuff found one little badger trying to climb in with the Abraxans and the Aeothonans.

She picked it up. The badger rolled playfully, as if it wanted its tummy tickled. But she was unable to oblige, as at that moment the two boys arrived upstairs and shoved past her, knocking the badger from her hand onto the shelf. “ _Hey!”_

They paid her no attention; both were intent only on professing their love most theatrically and most emphatically to a rather embarrassed Georgina. The Slytherin and the Hufflepuff slipped quietly away.

Now the evening was drawing in. As the two girls made their way up the hill towards the castle, the wind breathed its chill breath against them, riffling their hair, flushing their cheeks, stirring their robes, numbing their hands. They stopped at the top of the hill and looked out over the lake. The sun was setting, washing a swash of watercolour hues across the clouds, an inkwash across the dark water of the lake.

They stood there for a few moments, watching the sun sink. The wind may have been cold, but bundled together in a jumble of green and yellow scarf, they both felt nice and cosy.

It was peaceful up here, just watching the setting sun.

Before long, the sunlight had all but disappeared and the stars were fading into view. They walked slowly back to the castle together - in no hurry - stopping and looking up every now and then to watch the constellations blossoming over their heads. There was a gibbous moon, warm and mellow against the dark sky.

Later that evening, they would sit together and read the Hufflepuff’s favourite comics, laughing as the Slytherin’s ginger cat attempted to roll on the pages. Or they would go to the homework room and do a little Herbology homework, listening to music. Or they would just talk, chatting about whatever they pleased when there was nobody else there to listen.

But for now, all of that was only possibility. It belonged to a moment in the future, to be anticipated and looked forward to. Now there was nothing but the stars, and the moon, and the Hufflepuff and her Slytherin, the Slytherin and her Hufflepuff.


End file.
